Thread by @candygourlay

Reading this extract from @Malala Yousafzai's story of moving to Birmingham reminds me of my own move to the UK back in 1989. The cold air creeping along your skin, air that is quiet in a way the tropics can never be...

theguardian.com/books/2019/jan… #authorlives #kidlit #candygourlay

The immodesty of fashions, all those lowcut necklines revealing bosoms the size of which one never sees in Asia. And so much kissing and touching in public! It was liberating and disturbing at the same time!

Back home communicating required vigilance, mind reading and care. Here everything was put into words. Feelings. Anger. Desire. All the sharp corners of human interaction smoothed by words. I loved it.

And how strange to be a stranger. Being misunderstood daily. Hearing your culture, the things you have known, the way you lived, casually dismissed and diminished. Doubting who you are. Trying to be who people expect you to be.

And the constant hunger for your own food. The rice, the saltiness of soy sauce with everything, vinegar on pork, tamarind in soup, sweet yellow mangos. Seeing potatoes on the menu again began to feel like an insult!

But slowly London became my home. Home becomes because of people and love and there was plenty where I lived. Thanks @Malala for reminding me of my own arriving long ago. I hope this cold place is becoming more like Home for you too. I look forward to reading the book.